The demon inside, p.18
The Demon Inside, page 18
“Chicken,” Will butted in, his face flushed, “I feed her chicken, ducks, things like that.”
“Who the hell gives a damn what you’re feedin’ it? You should have killed it.”
“She’s my baby sister,” he said through gritted teeth, “I couldn’t kill her. Would you shoot your son?”
“In a heartbeat,” Mac’s answer was cold, hard and sure. It sent chills down Darcy’s spine. It was so brutally honest.
“First thing in the morning we’re outa here,” Alec muttered, whilst Will was escorting his Gran back to bed half an hour later, argument over, though nothing had been settled.
“What if it gets out tonight?” Poppy’s voice was small and vulnerable, such a change from Mac’s hard angry tones that Darcy turned to look at her, having almost forgotten the younger girl was there.
“Then we’ll shoot it,” Rory clasped Hope’s hand reassuringly, “right, Alec?”
“Right,” Alec nodded decisively, pacing agitatedly across the room.
A long, tense few minutes later, Will returned briefly, lingering in the doorway as he told them, “I’m going back to bed.” His eyes rested on Callie as he spoke and Darcy thought she saw regret there, before he turned and walked away.
“Glad someone can sleep,” Hope muttered under her breath once he had gone. And for the remainder of the night they played card games with a battered, dog-eared pack of cards from Rory’s coat pocket, which he had brought for them to play in the back of the van on the hour long ride out here. No one kept score.
By sunrise the screams had died down and the wind had faded to a gentle breeze, but still they were all on tenterhooks. Hastily, Darcy folded the blankets on the sofa as the others shrugged into their jackets and tied their laces. Neither Will nor Granny Pat were up yet, but both Alec and Mac were adamant that they wouldn’t wait any longer. Trooping out of the house and across the courtyard, as they passed the horse trailer, now totally still, all eyes watched it warily. Yesterday it hadn’t even warranted a second glance, but now they gave it a wide berth as they left the property. They were halfway through the first muddy field when Callie stopped and turned back. Pausing alongside her, Darcy looked back, too. Will could be seen framed in the doorway, watching them go; when he noticed them watching he raised a hand in farewell.
Chapter Seventeen
Rory was right; his mum did go ballistic. As soon as the van appeared driving down the street Joanne and David were out of their house and hurrying down the front path to meet them, obviously having been watching from the window.
“Where were you?” Joanne’s voice was a shrill, angry cry as they piled out of the van after Alec parked it outside their gate. Mac continued passed them in the four-by-four, taking it through the open gate and up to the house. Before Rory even had chance to speak his mother yelled, “How dare you pull a stunt like that? We were worried sick!” Beside her, Alec tensed and went to step forward, opening his mouth, but Darcy caught his arm and shook her head subtly. He wouldn’t help anyone by interfering; this was Rory’s fight, either he’d stand up for himself, or he wouldn’t.
Rolling his eyes, sarcasm dripped from Rory’s voice as he said, “Oh, I’m sure you were beside yourselves.”
“Don’t talk to your mother that way, you don’t know how much she’s done for you,” David snapped, taking a step forward until he and Rory were standing toe to toe.
Real anger lit the boy’s eyes now; he didn’t like his stepdad and it was obvious that the feeling was mutual. “She’s done nothing for me since she met you.”
“You will show me some respect, you ungrateful little...” David’s lips pressed together to hold back the last word. In his fancy suit, despite the fact that he had nowhere to go, he didn’t look capable of throwing a punch, yet his fists were clenched at his sides and Darcy watched him warily.
“You’re not my father,” Rory lashed out, sounding like a frustrated child who didn’t know what else to say, “you can’t tell me what to do.”
“Thank God I’m not your father! I’d be ashamed to call you my son.” For a moment there was complete silence, as everyone looked between David, Rory and Joanne. When Joanne didn’t speak up for her son, David straightened, stepping back as he lifted his chin, saying calmly, “I think you owe your mother an apology.” Rory’s jaw clenched mulishly. “In that case,” David drew in a breath whilst neatly tugging down the cuffs of his suit, “I don’t want you in my house until you can act respectfully.” Brows pulling together, Rory’s lips parted in stunned surprise. His mother didn’t say a word.
Anger rising inside of her, Darcy stepped up and linked an arm through his in solidarity, declaring, “That’s fine, he can stay with us.”
“Yeah,” Hope stepped up to his other side, linking their hands and leaning her body into his, flashing him a flirtatious smile which was clearly meant to irritate his mother, “you can stay in my room, I’ve got a double bed.” Her voice lowered into a seductive purr for the last part and Joanne sputtered indignantly, her mouth working like a landed fish.
As they turned to walk away, Rory wedged firmly between them, Darcy raised an eyebrow at her sister, whispering, “That was wicked of you.” Hope simply smirked unrepentantly, flipping her sheet of blond hair over her shoulder.
The very next day Alec went with Rory to collect some of his things and, according to him, neither of the boy’s parents said anything to him during the brief visit, in fact, after she answered the door Joanne had disappeared into the kitchen and wasn’t seen again. Whilst the others were out, Rebecca popped around with Luc.
The first thing she said was, “We came to see the petting zoo.”
“Sorry,” Darcy couldn’t help but smile as Luc waved his arms at her, gurgling noisily, “we didn’t get any animals in the end.”
“Damn,” the other woman stomped her foot with a playful grin, as she handed her son over, since the baby was leaning back over her arm, reaching chubby arms towards Darcy, “I was really looking forward to cuddling some cute fuzzy critters.” Once the little boy was in her arms he immediately grabbed a fistful of long, golden hair and guided it towards his mouth.
“You realize we were trying to get cows and sheep, not fluffy little bunny rabbits, right?” Darcy teased back, trying to untangle dimpled fingers from her hair.
“Meh,” Rebecca waved a dismissive hand, “same thing.”
Laughing, she turned and walked down the hall to the kitchen, still in possession of her precious cargo, calling over her shoulder, “Got time for a cup of tea?”
“Nah, sorry, my schedule’s full. Work meeting at twelve, then I’ve got an appointment with the hairdresser and to top the day off I’m going to dance the night away in some overpriced bar.”
“In that case,” Darcy clicked her tongue and quirked a brow, “you better get going, else you’ll be late, but I’m keeping Luc.”
“Fine by me,” Luc’s mum laughed, “you’ll soon give him back when he starts getting antsy. He’s not always the sweet little angel you have there.”
“I don’t believe that at all,” she cuddled Luc closer, kissing his cap of soft brown hair, “not at all.”
Just as they were entering the kitchen Alec and Rory burst in via the front door. “Christ,” Alec panted and Darcy glanced over her shoulder to see him dragging a large, bloated black suitcase down the hall, “What have you got in here, a ton of bricks?”
“That’s all my fishing stuff.”
“What’s in yours?” Alec enquired, panting as he briefly rested the suitcase against the wall; the younger boy was carrying a lighter rucksack slung casually over one shoulder.
“Clothes.”
“How come you get the lighter one?” Alec complained, “This is all your shit.”
“Hey, you’ve got more muscle than me,” Rory slapped him companionably on the shoulder as he slipped past to jog easily up the stairs, leaving Alec to begin heaving the suitcase up to the second floor, “it’s only fair.”
“You guys want tea?” Darcy called out as she flicked on the kettle.
“Er... No, we’re gunna head out after we’ve dumped these upstairs.” The hesitation in his voice told her that he was up to something and her eyes narrowed suspiciously, but she didn’t call him on it. When they appeared in the kitchen a few minutes later, Alec came up behind her to wrap his arms around her waist and pull her back against him.
“We won’t be long,” he murmured in her ear, “we just have to grab a few things.”
“What do you need? We’re already fully stocked for winter, so is everyone else; you made sure of it.”
“There are just a few extra bits,” he assured her evasively, squeezing her shoulders and leaning down to kiss her cheek before he stepped back, repeating, “We won’t be long.”
“You’re going out?” Callie suddenly burst into the room, looking more alive than Darcy had seen her in a long time. “Wait a minute; I’m coming, too.” And then she was gone again, presumably rushing to get her shoes and coat.
Glancing at Rory, Alec muttered sardonically, “Quick, let’s go before she gets back.”
Slapping the back of her hand against his chest, she snapped, “Don’t be mean.” She hadn’t meant her tone to be so harsh and she saw the flash of confusion in his eyes, but it hurt that he was keeping something from her when they were usually so open and the fact that he hadn’t asked her if she wanted to come made it even worse; it felt as if he were excluding her, as if they were drifting apart. She knew she was probably overreacting, but she couldn’t help the way she felt, could only hide it.
Despite what Alec said, the three of them weren’t back until late that evening. By the time pink and orange streaks were decorating the horizon it had begun to snow and Darcy was beginning to worry. Pacing in front of the living room window, looking out down the driveway towards the closed front gate, she wrung her hands together as she chewed her lower lip anxiously.
From the sofa, Hope said, “Stop worrying, I’m sure they’ll be home any minute.” Despite her confident tone, Hope’s eyes flickered towards the window and Darcy felt a spike of guilt to think that she was making her little sister worry too, but she couldn’t imagine if anything happened to Alec and it gave her a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach to think that she’d let him go without telling him that she loved him. However, as soon as she saw bright headlights coming down the street all her rage came rushing back like a tidal wave, obliterating any tender feelings. How dare he make her worry like that?
When he waltzed through the door as if he didn’t have a care in the world, a pleased grin on his face, it only made matters worse. Having gone to stand in the doorway to watch them come in, shaking snow out of their hair and stamping it off their shoes, Darcy could only glare at him, all the furious words that had filled her head moments before clogged her throat and refused to come out, so she simply turned and stomped up the stairs. Alec called after her, his tone confused, but she kept going. He didn’t follow her, which she told herself was a good thing even though part of her twisted with disappointment at being denied a drawn-out, drag-down fight.
Even once she’d had a chance to calm down, a knock on the bedroom door made her hackles rise. Without waiting for a response, Callie thrust open the door and stepped inside, closing it behind her. “Trouble in paradise?”
“Shut up,” Darcy snapped, scowling at her friend, who just shrugged, totally unperturbed.
“Fine, you don’t want to talk about it,” she stuck her hands on her hips, “so stop moping and get your arse off the bed, I need your help.” Promptly, she spun on her heel and left the room. After a minute of glaring at the door, as if she could somehow force it to combust in a shower of splinters, Darcy let out a sigh and reluctantly stood. Stomping out into the hall, she saw the bathroom light on through the open door and walked in to find Callie at the sink mixing something in a little black pot.
“I need you to help me dye my hair back to its natural colour,” she said without looking up. Surprised, Darcy paused in the doorway; Callie had dyed her hair so many times, so many colours, over the last few years that Darcy doubted whether even she could remember what her natural colour was – it had been black, a soft caramel, bleach blonde and briefly bright blue, however her parents had put their foot down on that one, saying they didn’t want a daughter who looked like a Smurf, which Darcy had thought was fair enough, but fourteen year old Callie had been furious.
“So, what have you chosen?” She asked, going over to pick up the empty cardboard container. Examining it, her lips kicked up into a grin despite herself and she snorted, “This isn’t your natural colour, it’s too dark.”
Callie shrugged. “It’s close enough.”
“If that’s what you want,” Darcy said, pushing her own troubles aside as she rolled up her sleeves, saying, “Pass me the gloves.”
Though it turned out to be far darker than her natural brown hair the rich colour suited her. Standing in front of the mirror, Callie pulled a hunk of hair over her shoulder to examine the frizzy ends. Frowning, she turned to her, complaining, “I’ve got split ends.”
Going downstairs, Darcy grabbed the scissors from the kitchen draw. Returning, she chopped the ends off Callie’s hair, trying to keep it as straight as possible, even as she remembered that she’d promised to cut Alec’s hair and never gotten around to it. Putting that thought out of her head, she finished the job and stepped back, “What do you think?”
Running her fingers though her freshly trimmed hair, Callie grinned, “Perfect.” Glancing back over her shoulder with a playful glint in her eyes, she added teasingly, “And it’s almost straight.”
“Yeah, well,” Darcy shrugged, keeping her expression deadpan, “it had to be bad enough that you wouldn’t ask me to play hairdresser again, but decent enough that you wouldn’t bitch slap me for screwing up your hair.”
That night she slept over in Callie’s room and they talked of nothing well into the night. “So,” Callie fished eventually, “you and Alec?”
“So,” Darcy mimicked her tone, “you and Will?”
“There is no me and Will.”
“Really? Because I thought the hair was for his benefit.”
“No,” Callie fibbed, “I just got tired of looking like a skank with my roots showing.”
“Okay,” Darcy grinned to herself, leaving it at that because they both knew the truth anyway.
The next morning she slept in, usually she got up with the sun and Alec, but she simply couldn’t be bothered to get her limbs to move. Surprisingly though, Callie was already up, her side of the bed cold and empty. Shrugging it off, Darcy wrapped the covers more securely around her and drifted back to sleep, only to be woken a short while later by the bedside light flickering on and off. Cracking open an eye, she squinted up to see her friend rapidly clicking the switch as she stood casually beside the bed.
“Wakey, wakey sleeping beauty,” she called in an irritating, singsong voice. Moaning because it was unnatural for Callie to be so chipper this early in the morning, especially when Darcy felt so rubbish, she turned over, only to almost jump out of her skin when she found herself face to face with Hope.
“Jesus,” she swore, sitting up abruptly as she pressed a hand to her heart.
Grinning broadly, flashing straight white teeth, Hope jumped up onto her knees and began bouncing excitedly on the bed. “Come on, get up, you’ve got to see something.”
“What?” She asked, curiosity peaked as she blinked away sleep, rubbing at her eyes.
“It’s a surprise,” Hope’s eyes gleamed.
Going downstairs, following her two tight-lipped escorts, Darcy stopped dead in the living room doorway. The room was strung with tinsel and in front of the lit fire place, whose flames flickered and crackled, a small Christmas tree was decorated to the nines with blinking lights, sparkling tinsel, baubles, strings of beads and an angel, all dressed in white, perched on top. Beside it, Alec stood, hands in his pockets, smiling proudly. “Merry Christmas.”
When she didn’t say anything, only gaped at him, he shifted anxiously, “It’s Christmas day, I saw it on the calendar in the farmhouse, so I decided to surprise you. You told me Christmas was your favourite time of year, remember? We even wrapped some presents,” – he motioned to the messily wrapped parcels under the tree – “the tree’s fake, but it was all we could find; none of the shops were stocking Christmas stuff in August, so we broke into someone’s loft.”
“It’s...” Lost for words, she trailed off, looking around. It almost brought her to tears. The grand gesture wasn’t lost on her; he was trying to make the best of things.
“Do you like it?” Hope asked expectantly from behind her.
“Yes,” she murmured, before a smile lit her face as she stepped forward to wrap her arms around Alec’s waist. Giving him a tight squeeze, she pushed up onto her tip-toes to press a chaste kiss to the corner of his mouth, before whispering softly in his ear, “I love it and I love you.”
“Love you, too,” he murmured back, lifting a hand to stroke the sleep tangled hair back from her face, “more than anything.”
Chapter Eighteen
The main reason Darcy had always preferred Christmas to any other holiday was the atmosphere. Despite the statistics which said that people were the most stressed at Christmas time, in her experience everyone always seemed happier this time of year; presents were given, houses were decorated, children awaited a visit from Santa Claus and families that hadn’t seen each other all year suddenly found time to gather for a home cooked meal. That was an atmosphere which would never again be replicated, still, with everyone pitching in, it was a day to remember.
Sitting cross legged on the floor, in a loose semicircle around the tree, Alec handed out the gifts, each labelled with black ink. “Should we wait for Mac?” Hope asked, glancing around uncertainly as she accepted the box Alec handed her, wrapped with garish pink paper.
